Petunia Evans: The Untold Story
by Shadowed Twilight
Summary: Ever wondered why Petunia Evans hates her sister Lily Evans and all magical kind? This is my own take on why that happened. Told in Petunia's own words... Please enjoy, and don't forget to review.


1 Petunia Evans: The Untold Story  
  
2 By Astra_Angel8965  
  
Author's Note: This is my first fan fic. I got the idea one day from rifling through my much reread copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, and was inspired from page 53, chapter four. I decided to write a fic about Lily and James' day from Petunia's point of view. I think this fic shows the sympathetic and emotion side of Petunia Evans, and shows why Petunia hates wizards and witches.  
  
Readers, please, please review and tell me what you think! Praise me, correct me, flame me, whatever… Just remember that if you do flame me, I have an extinguisher! ^-^ I really don't know any British slang… well, except for "snogging," which means, "kissing." And further along in my fic, I mentioned that Lily did magic at home. Let's just say that that particular decree of underage magic hasn't been made yet…  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or anything that is even related to towards the books. If you insist on suing me, you'd get my pitifully empty wallet with a lone dollar bill, my half-finished English essay, and my Lifehouse and Sum 41 CDs.  
  
Summery: Petunia Evans hates her sister, Lily Evans, and considers her and the rest of her kind "freaks." Ever wondered why?  
  
Rating: PG (Parent Guidance)  
  
Genre: General/Angst  
  
* * *  
  
"You knew?" said Harry. "You knew that I'm a—wizard?"  
  
"Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. "Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared to that- that school- and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was- a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!  
  
She stopped to draw a deep breath and went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years.  
  
"Then she met Potter at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course you'd be the same, just as strange, just as- as- abnormal- and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we landed with you [Harry]!"  
  
- Excerpt from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, page 53, chapter four  
  
* * *  
  
"Mummy! Can I have piece of chocolate cake?" my son, sixteen-year- old Dudley whines to me. He edges toward the refrigerator in the kitchen.  
  
"Absolutely not," I say in an unusually stern voice. "You know that you have to stick to that diet, otherwise you won't fit into your Smeltings uniform anymore."  
  
After Dudley has his usual temper tantrum, goes off to sulk, my nephew Harry comes into the kitchen.  
  
"What do you want? Are you going to get in my way?" I sneer at him.  
  
"Like I really want to," Harry says coldly to me, his brilliant green eyes flashing. "I'm only cutting through the kitchen to go outside. So don't worry about it." He storms away, opening to sliding glass doors and slipping outside.  
  
As I watch Harry, I suppress a sudden howl of rage. Harry is so much more handsome than my own boy Dudley is. With Harry's bright green eyes, tousled raven hair, and lean, tall, muscular frame, I imagine many girls at his freak school admire him. I also notice an air of quiet confidence, talent, and strength to him.  
  
Compared to Dudley's hugeness (he is literally larger at the waist than he is tall), his ugly, pug-like features, and his small, malicious watery blue eyes, and stupid, empty mind, I know that there is no contest. But I pretend that it does not matter to me, that my own boy doesn't repulse me, that Dudley is the most perfect boy in the whole damned world, and that Lily hadn't once again beaten me by having an overall better son than I did. The fact that Harry was Lily's son puts the pang of pain that shoots through me every time I see Harry. But also was the fact that Harry looks and acts so uncannily like his father, that he is so much like him hurts me too.  
  
It is summer, and both boys have summer holidays. My ugly, equally fat, and repulsive husband, Vernon, is away working at his drill company. I know Harry is currently outside, and Dudley had run off somewhere. I had already put the dinner casserole in the oven, and cleaned the house. There is nothing else for me to do. I lean on the kitchen counter and sigh.  
  
Then, almost magically (magically- I quickly brush the horrid word away), my feet travel up the stairs, and up to the attic ladder. There is loads of junk and odds and ends in the attic, but my feet doesn't stop there, they took me to the far end of the attic, where a large, faded trunk stood. Automatically, I sit down, and open the lid of the trunk, almost forgetting what is inside. As soon as I peer inside, I slam the lid quickly, producing a large cloud of dust. I make a mental note to myself to clean to the attic as soon as possible.  
  
For you see, when my younger sister Lily died, I had locked all mementos of her (pictures of her had been in a suitcase in my closet), including things that were send to me. I had put it all in this trunk sixteen years ago, and had half-forgotten it.  
  
I stand up, ready to go back downstairs. But suddenly, a voice spoke up in my head.  
  
"What's wrong, Petunia?" it whispers. "Afraid to look at your sister?"  
  
I stop abruptly, and consider. No, I was not afraid to look upon the face of my dead sister, and I am not afraid now. Almost out of spite for that little voice in my head, I sit back down and open the trunk lid again, gingerly.  
  
The trunk is packed with old photograph albums, letters, clothes, and other things, all belonging to Lily. I had almost destroyed all of this, but somehow something made me turn back and save them.  
  
I rummage around, and randomly pick up one of the many scattered photographs on the bottom of the trunk bottom. I look at it. It was a wizard photograph; a rather large sized one. It was a close up of Lily, with her smiling and peering up at me. Whoever the photographer was, he/she was talented.  
  
I sigh, and set the photograph on top of some albums. I close the lid again, and lean against the trunk. I try to stop it, but I couldn't prevent the rush of sudden, painful memories washing over me.  
  
* * *  
  
I didn't always hate my younger sister Lily. It was that she was so much more better that I was. Before Lily was born, in my first two years of my life I was extremely happy. I was the apple of my parents' eye, but that all changed when Lily was born.  
  
I had grown ugly, with lank blonde hair that remained limp and thin no matter how many times I experimented with it. No matter what I ate, I had a thin, bony body frame with a long, giraffe-like neck, and a pasty, sallow complexion with the occasional big pimple. No matter how much makeup I put on, there was no hiding that I had a face like a horse and small, watery pale blue eyes. Not only that I was hideous to look at, I had horrid grades to, and didn't have that many friends.  
  
But Lily! Whenever we went anywhere together, it hurt because by the time she was eleven and I was thirteen, boys and men alike gawked openly at her. She was tall and slender without being bony, and had a grace to her step. With her long, thick, wavy dark red hair, wide, intelligent, sparkling bright green eyes, a flawless ivory complexion, and perfect features, she was constantly being asked to model no matter what her age by top modeling companies. Add that to the fact that Mum and Dad obviously liked her over me, she had an intelligent, friendly personality, she got perfect grades, and was really popular, and you would see why I hated her. I didn't outright yell, "I hate you!" to her face. I couldn't. Lily, like to everybody else, treated me with respect and friendliness. I was somewhat polite to her. Seeing that I wasn't going to be her best friend, Lily quickly gave up on me and started hanging out with her friends from school.  
  
But horrid fateful day a few days just after Lily's eleventh birthday, when Lily got that letter, my temper burst. When Lily read the parchment letter to Mum, Dad, and delighted disbelief in her voice, Mum clapped out in delight. Dad and I were nonplussed, I thought that the letter was nothing more than a stupid practical joke.  
  
"Oh, Lily," Mum cried. "I am so proud of you!" She ran over to Lily and hugged her hard.  
  
"Mum, what are you talking about?" I asked in disbelief, my eyes huge. "Wizards and witches don't exist." I was pleased to see Dad nodding vigorously in agreement to me.  
  
"No such-" Mum laughed. "Charles, Petunia, Lily, there's something I haven't told you. You see, my great-grandmother was a witch. My grandfather was a squib –a wizard with no magical– and he married my Muggle grandmother –non-magical person, like Charles, Petunia, and me– and I guess magic just skipped a couple generations to Lily. If you see pictures of my great-grandmother, you'd see that Lily looks just like her." With that, Mum swept Lily in another hug, with Lily laughing and squealing.  
  
"You don't believe it, do you Dad-" I stopped abruptly. Dad had joined Mum in hugging Lily.  
  
"Wow," Dad said enthusiastically, squeezing Lily. "A real witch in the family!"  
  
I don't believe this, I thought incredulously. What a load of shit! I stood up from my chair. Our breakfasts had grown cold and forgotten. "Hey Mum," I said loudly. "If Lily got the letter, why haven't I?"  
  
Mum paused, her big smile fading a bit from her face. "Er, Petunia dear, only real witches and wizards get the letter inviting them to Hogwarts on their eleventh birth year, and since you're…"  
  
"And since I'm thirteen, I won't be getting any letter inviting me to a magic school? So I don't have magic in my blood?" I demanded. I was getting more and more upset, but I tried not to show it. I could see that Lily was paying the least bit attention; she was dancing around ecstatically.  
  
"Erm…" Mum said, glancing at Dad for support. "Not everyone had magic. I don't, and I don't think you have either."  
  
"Then why does Lily have it?" I spoke in a dangerously quiet tone, trying to keep my calm.  
  
"The magic may have skipped a few generations…" Mum tried to explain to me.  
  
At that moment, I lost it. "Have you even seen Lily do any sort of magic? Then why aren't we warty toads by now?!" I shrieked shrilly. "If, if Lily has-has magic, then have you ever even seen her do anything unusual or weird?"  
  
Lily paused in her dancing, a thoughtful expression on her face. So she had been listening, somewhat. "Well, remember two years ago, when we had to raise frogs for science? Well, I had a tadpole in a cup in my desk, and I couldn't wait for it to grow into a frog. So about an hour later, when I peeked into my desk, there was a great big frog there."  
  
"Oh, yes, I remember that! I remember that call from that teacher!" Dad's eyes lit up. "She seemed quite angry about that too," he added, chuckling.  
  
"And remember the time," Lily recalled, a big grin on her lovely face. "Last year, when we had an argument over dinner, Petunia, and the milk glass in your hand exploded? Remember?"  
  
I certainly did. But it was more that I could take.  
  
"Fine!" I sneered as coldly as I could to Lily. "Have it your way, you're a witch. But to me, you're nothing but a freak."  
  
Then I ran upstairs as fast as I could, trying to hold back the tears of jealousy, fury, and frustration. I slammed my door, and buried my face in my pillow. Before I got to my room, I could hear Mum, Dad, and Lily talking worriedly about me, but the conversation soon switched to when Lily would get to go someplace called "Diagon Alley."  
  
Why hadn't I gotten a letter too, when I was eleven? It wasn't fair; Lily had everything. Looks, charm, brains, wit, and a sense of humor, and now, magic. Just once I'd like something Lily didn't have. Something she would envy me for. But that was never going to happen. Lily was always the lucky one. She would always be the lucky one.  
  
* * *  
  
"Mum, Dad, Petunia, I'd like for you to meet James Potter. James, meet my mum, dad, and my sister, erm, Petunia," Lily, now sixteen, said. Her boyfriend, James Potter, and her were over for the winter holidays, meeting all of us.  
  
I was now eighteen, and didn't miss the pause before Lily said my name. So I buried my face in my book while James, Lily, and my parents chatted away. I would have stayed up in my room if it wasn't for Mum and Dad, who forced me down there.  
  
Why bother? I had thought. I certainly didn't care about or wanted to be in the same room as Lily, and I knew that Lily felt the same. Ever since I started calling her "freak" and other insults, Lily had stopped being nice to me outright. Sure, she had made many attempts to be pleasant toward me, but I had brushed them off, sneering and making fun of her. So finally, she was just as unpleasant to me as I was to her. She started to do magic just to torment me, bringing frog spawn home and turning teacups into rats.  
  
But now that I was here, I was glad Mum and Dad made me. For James Potter was the best-looking guy I had ever seen, and I could sense his air of confidence and easy charm.  
  
And in that moment I had knew instantly I had fallen in love. Even though he was Lily's boyfriend, I didn't care. He had a tall, lean, muscular frame, with tousled raven hair, handsome features, a clear, tanned complexion, and warm chocolate brown eyes that sparkled with mischief and intelligence.  
  
I was so busy trying to pretend to read my book that I had nearly jumped five feet in the air, when a voice asked me, "So, you're Petunia, huh?"  
  
I peered slowly and cautiously over my book. There was James, right in front of me! I could see Lily, standing sideways with Mum and Dad, shaking her head and making gestures to him, but he ignored her.  
  
"M-me?" I said. I tried to force my voice to stop stammering. "I'm fine, thanks. And you?"  
  
James laughed good-naturedly. "I'm fine too, thank you." Then he (I almost fainted with sheer happiness) sat down next to me. I hurriedly put my book down and faced him.  
  
I couldn't think of anything to say, but I did remember overhearing Lily say that James played Quidditch, a rather (until that moment I thought it was) stupid wizarding sport that was played on broomsticks. I flashed James my best smile. "So," I said, trying to sound cool, despite my pounding heart and sweating hands. "Do you play Quidditch?"  
  
I could tell I had chosen a good conversation topic, because James' wonderful chocolate brown eyes lit up. "Oh yeah," he said enthusiastically. "I definitely play Quidditch! I'm the Chaser and captain of my House's Quidditch team, and for the last three years I had put together the best team my House had ever seen."  
  
"Wow," I said.  
  
James smiled at me. "Have you ever been on a broomstick? I'm sure Lily would let you on hers sometimes." (I didn't bother to mention that the day Lily would let me toy with her magic stuff was the day hell freezes over.) "How much do you know about Quidditch? I mean, it's the most wonderful sport in the world."  
  
I shrugged. "I don't really know a lot, but I've heard of Quidditch through Lily and her friends. All I know that it's played on broomsticks."  
  
"What?" James looked partly dumbfounded and partly horrified. "Don't know about Quidditch! I'm sure Lily would have explained Quidditch to you and all…"  
  
But then he proceeded to tell me every single detail of Quidditch.  
  
I tried to listen to him, but was to busy studying his face. Then I saw Lily heading over to us.  
  
"What are you two talking about?" Lily sat besides James, and took his arm in her hands. I felt a pang of wild jealousy shot through me, and tried to keep my face impassive.  
  
"Oh, James was just telling me about Quidditch," I said casually to Lily. Her lovely green eyes widened in shock.  
  
"What?" Lily said in disbelief. "But Petty, you told me many times that you hated-"  
  
"Anyway," I said loudly and hurriedly to James. "Weren't you just telling me about the 'Wronski Feint?'"  
  
"Oh yeah!" James said enthusiastically.  
  
Lily shook her head in amusement and walked off muttering under her breath, "Well, I guess miracles do happen."  
  
I frowned slightly after her and turned back to James, trying to comprehend what he was saying, but failing miserably due to my trying to memorize his fine, good-looking features.  
  
* * *  
  
I was inside my room, writing my confidences in my "Book of Shadows." I know this was kind of pathetic, but ever since Lily had found out that she was a witch and had been admitted to Hogwarts, I had immediately joined up with a Wiccan coven at the high school I went to. I had kept this a secret from my parents and from Lily, whom I especially couldn't tell, particularly since I kept calling her "the witch freak of the family." Not even my "boyfriend," Vernon Dursley (I went out with the ugly, fat, lack-of- personality boy on and off, because he was the only one who would even ask me out.), his sister and my friend Marge Dursley, and my other friend Yvonne, because they made it clear that they didn't stand for any magical stuff. And I went along with them too.  
  
I guess had joined the Wiccan coven just because I tried to convince myself that I, too, had magic in my veins. I mean, if Lily had magic, why couldn't I have that gift too? But the whole Wiccan thing turned out to be a hoax (though the people inside of the coven didn't realize it). Only the few of us could actually produce a magical "miracle" (and none of the few happened to be me), and those happened to be coincidences. So in my second year in the coven, I accepted my fate as a non-magical being, and I had dropped out, and started to hang out a lot more with Vernon, Marge, and Yvonne. They're not what you call "quality friends," but they seemed to like me all the same. Besides, it wasn't like I had a choice between choosing friends.  
  
My "Book of Shadows" was actually supposed to be sort of a witches' diary, filled with spells and stuff, but I guess habit wouldn't let me toss out my book. So now it was a diary. And writing in it really seemed to help me, especially during stressful times.  
  
I know James Potter will never fall in love with me, but can't I at least hope? I know, I know, the only time James will actually fall in love with me is in my dreams, but at least my dreams are much better than real life.  
  
I don't think anyone really knows my depth of hatred and jealously of Lily. But I can't help it- she is everything that I'm not! Why couldn't I at least have some talent, something she doesn't have?  
  
Even though James is Lily's boyfriend, I don't care, and I will continue to pine for his love even when I live to be a hundred. I know I sound like some stupid, lame, melodramatic soap opera star, but I really care for James! I know I just met him, but there's something about him… besides his sexiness, good looks, and charm. There's a burning intelligence and slight sensitivity. I could see it in his wonderful eyes.  
  
Oh, why couldn't at least someone like James love me? I know that I'm very ugly, but why? I'm nice, I'm understanding, and I have a good personality. Please God, for my sake, let James love me. I don't think there's anyone like him anyplace else, and my heart belongs to him, even though he doesn't know it.  
  
Petunia Evans  
  
I finished pouring out my thoughts onto the lined paper, and put my pen and book away and glanced at the clock. It was 1:56 A.M. I was really tired, and I changed into my pajamas, crawled in my bed and pulled the covers over me. I almost shut off my light, but then I heard the audible talking and whispers of Lily… and James. I thought everybody was asleep. James must have sneaked down from the guestroom he was currently staying in to Lily's room.  
  
At first, I wanted just to ignore them and go to sleep, but my curiosity won. I wanted to know what they were talking about, what boyfriends and girlfriends talk about. It wasn't like I had much experience with Vernon and myself.  
  
I shut off my light, opened the door of my room, and crept down the hall to Lily's room. The door was shut, but I pressed my ear to it. I could definitely hear them.  
  
"So, how do like your stay so far? It is, after all, your fifth day," I heard Lily ask James teasingly.  
  
"It's all good so far, but I have to say the Lily was the best part." They both laughed, and both pain and jealously shot through me.  
  
After their laughter died down, Lily spoke again. "Hey James, did you see how Petunia stars at you?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Oh, you know, she gives you the look that most of Hogwarts' female population gives you."  
  
"Oh really, I can't be all that good-looking."  
  
"Come, on now James, there's no need to get modest."  
  
"Well… now that you mentioned it, I did notice Petunia gazing at me in a weird way through lunch and dinner…"  
  
"God, James, you're so oblivious!"  
  
"Ha, ha, good one, Lily."  
  
"But seriously though, James, I think Petty's got a crush on you."  
  
"You really think so?"  
  
"Look, I know the look of a woman in love. In fact, it was the look I was giving you the last few years."  
  
"Lily… if Petunia really likes me, what am I suppose to do? You're her sister."  
  
"Well, I'd advise you to stay as far away from her as possible."  
  
"But won't that hurt her feelings?"  
  
"I have to say I really hate that bitch. She hurt my feelings plenty on many occasions."  
  
"Petunia seems kind of clingy towards me."  
  
"She does, and she hangs on your every word."  
  
"Not jealous, are you Lily?"  
  
"Very funny, James. Sometimes I wonder why I even go out with you in the first place."  
  
"But really, Lily, I wouldn't go out with Petunia. She seems nasty and mean, but nice if she wants something. And what's up with that body?"  
  
"I really want to know what Mum was on when she was pregnant with Petty."  
  
"I mean, I try not to be mean, but, well… you know what I mean."  
  
"You're lucky you didn't have to live with her for sixteen years."  
  
"I am lucky; I'm going out with the prettiest and brightest girl at Hogwarts!"  
  
Then there were sounds that sounded like they were doing some heavy snogging.  
  
I stood at the door in disbelief and immense hurt, my eyes full of tears threatening to spill over onto my face. I know I been nasty to Lily many times, but I honestly did not know how deep Lily's dislike for me was. But I guess I earned her hate. I was a bitch to her, many times.  
  
But James… I know that I was ugly and had a horrid body frame… but why didn't he defend me, like I thought would? As I said, I know was a bitch to Lily, but wasn't I nice and pleasant toward James? To him, I was "clingy, nasty, and mean," and "nice if I wanted something." James, how could you? How could you break my heart?  
  
Trying not to sob aloud, I stumbled into my room, and shut the door quietly. There, in the sanctuary and the safety of my room, I cried for James, who didn't love me and was devoted entirely towards Lily, and for myself, because I would never get to experience the love and ardor that Lily and James had.  
  
* * *  
  
"Petunia," Mum said, looking at me during breakfast. "Are you OK? You don't seem to be like yourself this morning."  
  
Mum and I were alone this morning. It was the day James was the leave, and I was glad. Ever since I heard that late night conversation between Lily and him, I had ignored them both. Dad and Lily were accompanying James to the King Cross Station, where James was taking the nine A.M. train.  
  
I shrugged and didn't answer. I just stirred my now cold oatmeal.  
  
"Honey?" Mum tried again. "Are you sick?"  
  
"I'm fine Mum," I said coolly, raising my head so my eyes could meet hers. "Why are you so worried about me anyway? Just because I'm not talking much today doesn't mean that I'm sick. Why don't you go back to praising Lily? I'm sure it'd make you and Dad happy."  
  
Mum's face looked full of hurt, and she was unable to answer. I was suddenly ashamed of myself.  
  
"Oh, Mum," I said softly. "I'm sorry. I really didn't mean that. It's just that, well…"  
  
Mum smiled at me, and hugged me. "You're forgiven. But honey, what's wrong?"  
  
I sighed, my oatmeal now completely forgotten. "I, well, it's just that… do you promise not to tell anybody, especially Lily?"  
  
"Of course, dear," Mum promised.  
  
I took a deep breath. "Mum, when I met James, I-I really liked him. He was so nice, handsome, and… well, I guess I fell in love with him."  
  
"But he was Lily's," Mum said gently.  
  
"I know, and that just was the trouble." I felt tears welling up in my eyes. "But even though if he hadn't loved Lily, he wouldn't never love me. I mean, look at me! I'm really skinny and bony, with hardly any bust, my neck looks like a giraffe's, and my face looks like a horse's. What boy wouldn't run away when they see me?"  
  
"Petunia," said Mum firmly. "Don't say that! What about Vernon?"  
  
"Vernon," I said scornfully. "That fat tub of lard with a mustache. Mum, I only go out with him because he's the only boy who's willing to go out with me."  
  
"He really cares for you, Petunia," Mum said gently. "Every time I see him, his eyes are only on you."  
  
"But I don't care about him one bit!" I burst out in protest. "The only guy I ever liked was James, and he didn't like me!"  
  
But before Mum could answer, Dad and Lily came home.  
  
I think that was the closest thing I ever had to the stereotypical mother/daughter type of talk with Mum ever.  
  
* * *  
  
"And do you, Lily Evans, take James Potter as your lawfully wedded husband, to cherish and honor through sickness and through health?"  
  
"I do."  
  
"Then I officially pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."  
  
The cheers around me were deafening as the newlywed Potters' many friends clapped and cheered.  
  
I didn't move throughout the entire wedding ceremony, even though I had wanted to weep many times as waves of anger, deep sadness, and hurt washed over me. Even though it had been almost a year since I had first met and loved James, it seemed like it was just yesterday that I had listened to their conversation from Lily's bedroom door.  
  
I glanced sideways toward my husband, Vernon Dursley. He was sitting just like me, staring stiffly ahead.  
  
I had married Vernon and become Petunia Dursley about six months ago. He had proposed to me on a date on my nineteenth birthday. I had lost all hope that any guy like James Potter would love me, let alone want to marry me. So I said yes. I was sure that I would grow to care for him as time passed. But I hadn't really come to care for him. Not yet. But I was pregnant with his child.  
  
Never had Lily looked so beautiful as she did that day. She dressed simply, wearing a long, shimmering, white wedding gown that was cut low at the neckline that made her wavy dark red hair, worn in an intricate bun, and her brilliant green eyes stand out.  
  
And James? After my first glimpse of him from after almost a year, I had a hard time catching my breath. Never had he looked so noble and strong and handsome, in a black tuxedo. But I had caught his look of deep love for Lily, and I felt like crying all over again.  
  
When I went out to get the mail that one morning, I almost felt like I was being mocked when I saw the wedding invitation. I almost didn't go, but Mum and Dad persuaded Vernon and me to go.  
  
At the reception in at Lily and James' house in some place called Godric's Hollow, Vernon and I danced a bit, but mostly just sat down stiffly, staring stonily ahead.  
  
"Wasn't this one of the best weddings you've ever been to, Petunia?" I was startled a bit, then turned to the source of the voice. A very pretty, coppery-auburn haired young woman had spoken, with almond-shaped, intelligent smoky brown eyes. I recognized her as one of Lily's friends that Lily had brought over one time during the summer two years ago. I had forgotten what her name was though.  
  
She smiled at me, a lovely, sweet smile that made her exquisite features stand out. "I'm sure you don't remember me. My name is Amariah O'Shaughnessy. Lily introduced us two summers ago."  
  
I smiled back, a forced, labored smile. "Of course. But I'm Petunia Dursley now."  
  
"Congratulations," Amariah said warmly. I felt that this pleasant and lovely-disposition woman might have been a friend if we were under much different circumstances.  
  
"Whom are you talking to, dear?" asked Vernon stiffly, finally looking over.  
  
"One of Lily's friends," I replied.  
  
Just then, a handsome young man with light, sandy brown hair and clear, light blue eyes walked over to Amariah. " 'Mariah, want to tango? You hardly danced with me at all." He pretended to pout, trying hard not to laugh.  
  
"Oh, like five hundred times weren't enough for you, Remus?" Amariah laughed. She turned towards me, "Nice talking to you, Petunia. I'll see you around sometime, maybe."  
  
She and Remus spun around, laughing merrily.  
  
Don't count on it, I thought coldly. Abruptly, I faced Vernon. "I'm tired to staying here," I announced. "Let's get going."  
  
Vernon looked relieved, and gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek. I managed not to shudder in horror. "That's a great idea, Petunia."  
  
We went to Lily and James, who were in the center of the room, dancing. I tapped Lily on the shoulder. She and James both looked up.  
  
"Lily, James, I just want to tell you that Vernon and I are leaving now," I said flatly, with just the slightest bit of a sneer and sarcasm in my voice. "We had a good time, and now we have to leave. Congratulations on your wedding."  
  
Vernon nodded vigorously, looking impatient, and we turned to leave. But Lily caught my sleeve.  
  
"Petunia," she asked, her tone almost pleading. "Can we talk? Alone, I mean?"  
  
I looked at Vernon, and he shrugged, heading back to the chairs to wait for me.  
  
"Fine then," I said coolly to Lily.  
  
Lily led me outside of her house, where practically no one was there.  
  
"What do you want?" I said trying to sound bored.  
  
Lily stared at me with her penetrating bright green eyes, and stated simply, "I want to know if we're going to keep up this feud for the rest of our lives."  
  
I shrugged, unable to keep the sneer of my face or the biting sarcasm from my voice. "Maybe. But I haven't called you 'freak' in long while; you should feel lucky."  
  
"Petunia." Lily's voice was quiet and intense. I looked at her, and was slightly surprised to find tears trembling on her lashes. She hardly ever cried. "Look, we're both adults now, can't we settle our differences like adults? I would really like to forgive and forget out years as enemies, but how can I do that when you're acting this way?"  
  
I just stared icily at her, feeling fury rush over me. Forgive her? No possible way. "Look Lily dearest, I know what really happened. Remember first time you brought James home? OK, I admit it; I had fallen hard for him. But that one night, when James sneaked into your room, I overheard everything. And you two broke my heart, telling each other what you really thought of me." I bit off each word viciously on my last sentence.  
  
Lily arched her eyebrows, all traces of hurt replaced with anger. "I can't believe you would sink so low as to eavesdrop," she snapped. "What exactly is your problem anyway? Ever since I was eleven and got the letter to Hogwarts, you've been a bitch to me all my life. And all through it, I wondered why. But now when you're here, I want to know. I want to know why you had hurt me all these damn years!"  
  
"OK!" I shouted in fury. I no longer cared who heard us. "You want to know why I detest you? News flash, little sister, you always showed me up, no matter what. No matter what, you were always better than I was, in grades, looks, personality, everything. So when you found out that you had magic in your veins, sure, why wouldn't I be furious that Mum and Dad were always gushing over you?"  
  
Lily also had a sneer on her face, fury in her flashing green eyes. "So that's it. So that's why you hated me. Out of jealousy and spite. Well, Petunia, I had brought you here to talk to you with good intentions, but I can see that you can never accept that I will always appear to look better than you no matter what do! Fine, go home, I never want to see again as long as I live!"  
  
"Fine," I spat, glaring at her. "Fine, you filthy witch freak, I will be leaving. Have fun with your damned, abnormal filthy friends and your damned, abnormal, filthy freak husband!"  
  
I turned to leave, but Lily quickly lashed out in fury. She slapped me so strongly on the side of my face, my head snapped back from the sheer strength of it. My eyes watered immediately from the pain. Shocked, I gingerly touched the side of my face, which hurt very badly, and my nose, which now had blood coming out fast from it.  
  
"Stop it," Lily hissed, enraged. Her beautiful face was white, and she was breathing fast. Her brilliant green eyes sparked and glittered furious emerald fire. "I mean it, Petunia, stop it. I personally don't care when you act like a five-year-old and call me 'freak,' but when you insult the ones I love, that's when I get angry."  
  
She took a menacing step closer towards me, and I backed away, my hand still on my bleeding nose. "If you're going to keep acting like this, Petunia, then stay away from me forever. I don't need a bitch like you around, calling my people, 'freaks.'"  
  
I stared, still stunned, as Lily turned and marched inside the house. A minute later, Vernon hurried out, his small piggy eyes growing huge at the sight of my face.  
  
"W-what happened?" he gasped as he quickly handed me a tissue for my bleeding nose. Stonily, I took it, and without saying a word, got inside the passenger side of his car. A second later, he got into the driver's side, and, sensing that I didn't feel like talking, swiftly turned the car from the curb where it was parked and headed home.  
  
* * *  
  
"Come here, my Dinky Duddydums, my darling," I cooed. "Come to mummy, come now."  
  
My fat son, barely one year old, stared stupidly at me. I resisted the urge to slam his head with a brick. Maybe then that would enhance his intelligence level.  
  
"Let me try," said Vernon, waddling as fast as he could over to me. His newspaper was forgotten. "C'mere, you little tyke. Ah, good boy, Dudley!" He lifted the enormous baby to his shoulders, and passed Dudley to me.  
  
"Well, Vernon, it's getting late," I said. "Why don't we go to bed now?"  
  
Vernon had a sickening look of sudden lust on his pig-like face.  
  
Oh shit, I thought frantically. I didn't mean it that way!  
  
"Why, sure, my poodle," Vernon said in a sickening simpering way. "We can put Dudley in his crib and- ah, get it on, shall we?" He wiggled his eyebrows at me, trying to look sexy, but failing miserably.  
  
I was trying really hard not to throw up from the sheer disgust of it all. Fighting to keep an impassive face, I looked up at him. "Well, Vernon, I don't think tonight would do it. It's, er, my, erm, I- I, I'm really, er, tired today, and I- I just don't feel like it today."  
  
Taking Dudley, I practically ran to his nursery, where I put him in his crib and stared at him, waiting for him to be asleep. My thoughts were racing a hundred miles an hour.  
  
There was only one time I had slept with Vernon, and that was on the night of our wedding. The thought of his fat flesh wobbling over me again gave me nightmares. So far, I had managed to dodge his lewd ideas and suggestions.  
  
Why, I thought for the millionth time since our wedding. Why couldn't I have ended up with a man like James? But I sighed in recognition, and turned and marched toward our bedroom.  
  
* * *  
  
I woke up and climbed out of bed. It was two days later and my feelings of repulse towards my husband and my son still hasn't changed one bit.  
  
I shuffled downstairs, to get the milk. But I was in for the shock of my life.  
  
"AUGGGGHHHHHH!" I screamed, startled. Luckily, my shrill scream didn't seem to awaken any of the neighbors.  
  
I stared down at the baby that had been dropped on my porch. For a second, I wondered if the tale of the stork was true.  
  
The baby was James' and Lily's, that was for sure. It was a real shock to me; I hadn't known that Lily had a baby. But then again, I normally pretended that I didn't have a sister.  
  
It had a little patch of messy jet-black hair, like James,' but had Lily's brilliant green eyes. The baby stared up at me, roused my scream.  
  
My scream and shock died down, and I glimpsed a letter, that was neatly tucked into the baby's emerald blankets, and now was clutched in its hand.  
  
My hands trembling, I unfolded the parchment letter and read quickly:  
  
Dear Vernon and Petunia Dursley,  
  
The baby you see here is Harry James Potter, the son of Lily and James Potter. He is almost a year old.  
  
The reason he is here is because of a most unfortunate and sad event causing their death. A dark wizard, Voldemort, had murdered them with a deadly curse.  
  
I am hoping you would take Harry in and raise him, seeing that you are Harry's uncle and aunt, and that you are the only living relative of his.  
  
Treat the boy well; he will surely be great someday.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Albus Dumbledore  
  
Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
  
I finished the letter and stared blankly at the emerald blankets that were at my feet. I kneeled over and tentatively touched little Harry's cheek; for a minute, love flowed through me to the baby. Harry opened his brilliant green eyes and stared at me. Unwillingly, tears came to my eyes as I remembered what I had just read- Lily and James were dead. Then, all of a sudden, my heart hardened to the very core. Of course I have no love for little Harry- he was, after all, Lily's son. He would grow up to be a freak, just like Lily. He would be abnormal. He would be a wizard.  
  
"What's wrong, dear?" asked Vernon, coming up from behind me. I guess my scream must have awakened him up. He stopped short and stared stupidly in shock at the bundle of emerald blankets at my feet. Silently, I handed him the parchment letter. His reaction differed that mine; he roared in fury and tore the letter to shreds.  
  
"This freak- he- he's going to live with us?" he sputtered. I nodded mutely. He looked at me, desperate. "Can't we drop him off at the orphanage?"  
  
I finally spoke. "If my parents were still alive, I'd put him in their care."  
  
During the last year, my parents had died, my father having cancer, and my mother having a heart attack. We hadn't known that Dad had cancer in his body, and that Mum had a bad heart.  
  
"But we can't put him in an orphanage." I spoke more firmly. "We have to keep him- Vernon, Lily's dead." I bit my lip, considering. "I know this doesn't sound like me, but can't we keep him? Just for my sister's sake. Plus when he grows up, he can do all the chores, like a live-in servant." I allowed a thin smile on my lips.  
  
Vernon thought for a moment. "But he has magic in him, doesn't he?"  
  
"We can always beat it out of him."  
  
"Well, OK, then, I guess, but he has to stay in the cupboard under the stair."  
  
"That's good enough for him," I said, carefully and disdainfully picking the baby up.  
  
For a split second, Lily's beautiful face flashed in my mind, along with a horrifying vision.  
  
Lily was screaming up at a tall, menacing figure, her brilliant green eyes fierce, but also full of fear. "No, please not Harry, please not Harry!" She was clutching a bundle to her.  
  
The figure laughed. "Stand aside, silly girl. I'll spare your life."  
  
"No! Take me, take me!"  
  
The figure was suddenly angry. "Stupid girl!" And it unleashed a curse from the wand it was holding, and Lily… Lily dropped, dead. And the figure approached the tiny baby…  
  
The brief vision passed, and I almost dropped Harry. I was breathing hard, cold sweat on me. What the hell was that? I shook my head to clear the thought, and I briefly set Harry on my bed before I made breakfast and made his cupboard ready for him to stay in.  
  
For the next fifteen years of my nephew's life, Vernon and I had made sure it was a living hell for him. And Harry grew bitter and hated us, just like Lily had hated me, before she died.  
  
* * *  
  
"PETUNIA! WHERE ARE YOU?" I hear a familiar bellow from downstairs. I jump, startled. How long was I here? I sigh. Vernon is back from work.  
  
Quickly, I stand up, and brush my dress off clean. I would have to go down eventually, but I didn't want to, not yet. I run my hand dreamily along the trunk, which held Lily's things. I know I wouldn't come up here for a long time.  
  
As I turn to go from the attic, I feel a rare, unexpected tear trail down my face. Only one tear, nothing more. I suppose the tear was for Lily, for my still longing heart for James, for me, even for Harry, but most importantly of all: for death, which takes people you love away from you. Even though I had hated Lily, in some ways, I do miss her, and deep inside of me, I know I do love her as well, and was sorry I didn't get the chance to make up with her.  
  
* * *  
  
Author's Note: There you have it, folks- my first work of fan fiction. After reading this, I hope you'd click on the little 'review' icon below. Please tell me you comments- whether you loved or hated this, or anything else. Thank you, and please expect more fan fiction from me in the future. Thank you, and again, please, please, please, review. ~Astra_Angel8965~ 


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